


Discrepancies in Reporting

by TongueTripper



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Because Deadpool, F/M, Marvel Cameos, Not Canon Compliant, Trope(s) Plural, What Happened in Budapest (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TongueTripper/pseuds/TongueTripper
Summary: Now this is the story all about how, A mission in Budapest got flipped- turned upside down, Now Phil will take a minute, just sit right here, And ask himself how Strike Team Delta made it the heck out of there.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Red Tape

**Author's Note:**

> I feel the need to get this typed up before Marvel reveals any clues to the canonical version in the Black Widow Movie.
> 
> If you all don’t care about the typos and the odd pacing, I’m going to try and see this through and post a bit as often as I can even if it is broken up across many short chapters.

Phil leaned back in his chair and stared at the two Manila folders on his desk. He was still for a moment. After an eternity he steepled his forefingers and thumbs and brought them to his chin.

This was not the first time there had been discrepancies in the mission reports provided by Strike Team Delta. In fact, he had become so accustomed to it, that he could pick up any mission report and instantly anticipate the corresponding version of events as told by the other partner.

—“Evaded detection” would become “Used Jedi mind tricks to convince them we weren’t there.”

—“Acquired additional intel” would become “Target admitted to opening Christmas presents early and rewrapping them before placing them back under tree as a child and apparently hates the show Dog Cops. Definitely deserved to be on the hit list.”

He was used to the robotically efficient and sparse reports from Natasha and the equally off-topic ramblings from Clint.

However, the two reports currently on his desk seemed like they weren’t even the same mission. He leaned forward again and picked up the first file. He opened it and read through the first page. He closed it and opened the second file and repeated the process.

They were so different that he wasn’t as concerned with what had happened as to *why* he seemed to be handed two poorly fabricated false mission reports.

They were spies. They were good spies, if not the best spies of SHIELD’s current roster of operatives. So it’s not like he is so naive as to think that their professional and personal relationship would exclude the possibility that they would lie to him. But they were so much better than to be so painfully obvious about it. The mission was considered a success — and the city was still intact—so why would it be necessary to make up the report? Were they trying to hide something? Why did each of these reports read like they had completely fabricated the mission?

He sighed, and repressing a fleeting urge to shred the entire thing, he simply closed the files and carefully placed them neatly back on his desk.

He tapped the extension button on his desk phone and when the office assistant answered, he calmly requested to have agents Hawkeye and Black Widow report to his office.


	2. Name, Rank and Serial Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike Team Delta in the principal’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typos and fact checking errors are my own — Let’s get down to business.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Mission Report  
File Number: 8675309  
Clearance Level: Seven  
Mission Date/Time: 2 October 2009  
Report Date/Time: 18 November 2009  
Operative Unit: Strike Team Delta  
Mission Classification: Black Bag and Threat Analysis  
Mission Status: Object Acquired/Co-opted Target Neutralized

* * *

Coulson leveled a studied expression as the agents in question opened the door to his office moments later.

”I’m telling you that they were salvageable,” Clint’s voice carried from the hallway in a mirthfully teasing tone, “Morse or May would have gotten the GSR and blood out of them. Or you could have sent them to Fitz and Simmons. I mean come on, Louis Vuittons?” Clint gave Natasha a suggestive grin.

He paused just inside the room, his eyes quickly snapped to Coulson and back to Natasha, assessing the room with just a cursory glance as his hand left the handle. The slight arch of his eyebrow, communicated to her his exact take on the situation.

Natasha, for her part, wore a disinterested expression. “He was stalling,” she continued the conversation as she followed him in. “SHIELD auditors would have confiscated, tagged, and documented my weapons before returning them. I didn’t want to be inconvenienced. They can do what they want with the shoes.” A slight incline towards Phil and a subtle head tilt signaled her response.

”Until some brilliant pencil pusher creates a new Weapons-95 form for stilettos,” Clint groaned, “Next there will be a T-14 for sunglasses.” 

Phil buried the chuckle that threatened to burst forth. “Have a seat,” he motioned open-palmed to a pair of seats across from his desk.

Clint sauntered forward and slid into the chair closest to the one-way glass. Natasha carefully picked her way to the other chair giving her an easy vantage point to the door they had just entered.

“Duly noted that the beauracracy of paperwork is one of the more tedious aspects of our job. Unfortunately it is that specific topic that I want to address today.” Phil gave a disarming smile and proceeded.

”I understand you were able to debrief and submit your report within 48 hours of returning from your mission in Budapest, agent Romanova,” Natasha narrowed her eyes. It was a statement, not a question and she stilled waiting to see where Phil was taking this.

“And that agent Barton, you were received by medical immediately upon return from your mission in Budapest.” Again a statement, not a question. Clint leaned back in the chair, the move, signaling his shift not antagonistic, not hostile, but slightly defensive, waiting for the next move. The tension in the air was not uncomfortable, but there was no denying the electric current in the air.

”You gave your report four days later, after medical cleared you.”

“Concussion,” Clint offered, aware that Phil would have had the records from the medical wing.

”But they cleared you of any lingering symptoms,” Phil persisted in his soft-spoken dogged way.

Clint gave a non-commital shrug.

“They reported that the actual concussion occurred in the initial reconnoissance portion of your mission.”

Phil shook his head in faux disbelief, causing a disarming effect, “Instead of being extracted, you continued the mission, following mission parameters.”

He let a hint of awe seep into his voice, “You were able to isolate and neutralize the threat, recover the intelligence information, and that by the time you debriefed, the symptoms had abated and they simply placed you on monitored downtime.“

Clint deflected, “Hard head, I guess.” Phil knew Clint wasn’t going to give anything up. As a sniper, Clint knew how to outlast anyone when it came to a waiting game.

Phil’s curious gaze sought out Natasha instead, watching her reaction, as he continued.

”It doesn’t surprise me that my best agents in the field can deliver on results like this in spite of injuries. So it makes me wonder if the medical team is up to par if they could overlook a truly serious injury as I compare some glaring inconsistencies in your reports.” He pushed the Manila folders towards them—imploring them to examine the forms they had signed and submitted.

Phil kept his gaze on Natasha as he said, “Unless there is something in the report that I might have missed.” He was caught off-guard by the momentary flick of warmth on her cheeks. To any other handler, it would have been dismissed as a trick of the light, or seeing things. But that was a sign of bigger more problematic issue. The Black Widow does not blush. Agent Romanova does not blush. He’s not quite sure that she could even manufacture one for a cover. But what about Natasha...?


	3. Reconnaissance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never meant for there to be such a huge gap between updates. I started researching for accuracy (shield mission reports, city guides, timelines, film locations, etc.) and the whole work began to atrophy. SO I told myself, just write it, already! I apologize for any egregious inaccuracies and I am open to any suitable modifications to correct unforgivable errors.

* * *

### S.H.I.E.L.D. Mission Report

File Number: 8675309  
Clearance Level: Seven  
Mission Date/Time: 2 October 2009  
Report Date/Time: 18 November 2009  
Operative Unit: Strike Team Delta  
Mission Classification: Black Bag and Threat Analysis  
Mission Status: Object Acquired/Co-opted Target Neutralized

* * *

(Natasha)

Mission Objective: Collect stolen corrupted Super Soldier Serum replication trials - determine overall threat level - proceed as necessary to neutralize 

Location: Budapest

Cover: Mrs. Nadia Bacon...

* * *

(Clint)

Mission Objective: Captain America’s Gatorade - seriously why is this still a thing? How many years and has ANYTHING good come from still trying to figure this out! I’m all for job security but this is crossing the line into stupidity.   
  
Location: Hotels and Rooftops in Eastern Europe. There was a hospital. But that wasn’t even planned.

Cover: Only because I lost a bet to Sitwell— Mr. Frances Bacon - Married athlete, trophy hunter, and trust fund brat in search of a competitive edge. Why is THIS still a thing? Did we learn nothing from Lance Armstrong?

* * *

* * *

Natasha stepped out of the taxi a carefully onto the cobbled street that led into the heart of Pest. She glanced appreciatively at the vantage point offered at Gellért Hill and added it to her mental tally of tactical resources at the disposal of her cover identity. She pivoted slightly and lowered her designer sunglasses down her nose to make eye contact with Clint. 

Sensing her attention, he looked up at her after paying the driver. He fixed a low-key smirk in her direction as he removed a pair of sleek and sporty carry-ons from the back seat and motioned to the trunk for the bellhop that had materialized from the hotel. The uniform was fitted smartly, and pressed with attention to detail, if a bit faded from multiple washings. Clint’s look for Natasha was subtly suggestive but never crossed over to lewd. Mr. Bacon was not a newlywed and not consumed by base instincts, but the marriage was still fresh enough that he enjoyed entertaining his wife during their travels. She knew that the smile was genuine, even as she knew he was multitasking by assessing the surroundings for strategic risks and advantages.

“We must go catch the view across the Danube,” Natasha sighed breathily. Mrs. Bacon loved to see the sights, and was a consummate tourist due to her husband’s travels for tournaments and competition.

”I hear the sunset this time of year is spectacular,” Clint nodded as he drew up next to her. Natasha suppressed a twitch in her free hand, to reach out and grab her carry-on case that carefully concealed a small cache of weapons and tech. Clint’s smirk grew into a grin, reading her mind as he maneuvered one case with each hand. They would never trust the gear in the hands of unvetted civilians. And while Natasha was capable of carrying her own gear, Mrs. Nadia Bacon, was perfectly accustomed to leave the task to her husband. Instead she pushed her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose and neatly slipped her arm into Clint’s, enjoying the taut muscle of his bicep as he rolled the cases into the hotel. The bellhop efficiently unloaded and proceeded to manage the checked luggage to the Bacon’s suite. As he disappeared into the service elevator, Clint leaned close as they made their way through the lobby. His breath warm on her ear As he murmured in low tones, “Seems like a local student. Accidental double tip. Seems sharp enough to know the comings and goings of guests.”

Natasha tilted her chin to give Mr. Bacon an lovestruck smile.

Budapest was not Russia. Shield was not the Red Room. Her cover story was not a honeypot, not a seductress.

Just a pampered socialite in love with her partner. Simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Deadpool can go and murder his previous incarnation from 2009 then I decree the actual chronology of his timeline does not matter. So watch it all become Wibbly Wobbly.


End file.
